because while some truths lend themselves to equations, others are best described in verse

a beginning sort of day

crawled out of this morning;
i was blowing the dead leaves
from its still downy hair
when two new twinned
lives grinning arrived
in the backseat of
Somebody’s dreamcatcher
and with fingers like
microscopes
examined every
strand of me; i carried them
like pistols on each hip,
aimed at the world and all
the cries of its
renewal.